


Embers to Flames.

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Durincest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:01:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli and Kíli are jailed, and before they escape, Fíli tells Kíli stories to keep him calm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh I'm a sap. Particularly for the whole regal-dwarves-of-Durin thing.

Fíli shook his head and curled up tighter into himself, away from the cold ground below him. How had this happened? He should have protected Kíli. He should have realised that the innkeeper had an extra copy of the key. He should have known that they were making too much noise and someone would have come in. He shouldn’t have left his knives out where he couldn’t grab them and hide them. Mahal, he hoped Kíli wasn’t scared.

“Fíli,” came a whisper from across a walkway, accompanied by the clank of chains, chains that held the speaker in place. “Fíli, are you okay?”

Fíli looked up, hope in his eyes. “Kíli? I thought you’d been knocked out!” Fíli scrambled forwards, clinking, and stuck his head between the bars of the cell, a cell made for a Man and not a dwarf.

In the dim light from the moon, visible out of a window in the top of the walkway, Fíli barely saw, well, not-quite-Kíli. It was Kíli after their worst fights, Kíli after he’d taken on the neighborhood bully, but thirty years older than when the bully had stopped fighting him back. It was Kíli, covered in bruises, left eye swollen shut.

“Fíli, you look terrible,” Kíli laughed a little, then winced as he stretched bloody skin.

Fíli grimaced. “I could say the same about you, brother.” He felt his face gingerly, and if he’d been able to see the blood on his fingers, even the heir of the line of Durin would have been shocked.

“Fíli,” came the whisper, and suddenly Fíli felt the fear in Kíli’s voice. “Fíli, would you give me a story?”

Fíli sighed. “Alright,” he said, slowly, leaning himself gently back against the bars. “What do you want to hear?”

“You’ll think of something,” the voice across the way was slightly sardonic, despite the quiver it harboured.

“Well,” Fíli began, “Once Uncle Thorin told me about when he met our father.”

Kíli’s chains rustled. “No way. Where was I for this?!”

Fíli smirked. “Yes way. You were probably getting cleaned up by Dís; it was around the time of your challenge-the-bullies phase. Anyway, Thorin was a little tipsy and he started talking about this dwarf that everyone knew was crazy.”

The chains from across the way rustled again. “Papa? Crazy?”

Fíli flapped his hands at Kíli, though he couldn’t see them. “Shut up. Do you want the story or not?”

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. Thorin starts telling me about the feast to celebrate when he was proclaimed heir after Thrain, and he tells me about- and I quote- ‘this fucker that kept dancing in my meat.’”

A laugh, quickly followed by “Ouch!” echoed to Fíli from the other cell, and he smiled, eyes closed. “Anyway, so Thorin is bitching about this dwarf who’s dancing on the tables, and all I can do is laugh. Thorin starts describing all the terrible songs this guy was singing to Dís, but Dís was so drunk that she just laughed. Eventually, Thorin got so frustrated that he got up on the table too and punched him in the temple, and the guy landed in Dís’ lap, completely passed out.

“By the time that he came to, Dís and Thorin had both sobered up a little, Thorin had a red mark on his cheek where Dís had slapped him, and the pair were both hovering over his body where they’d dragged it in the corridor, while everyone else continued to feast and drink.”

Kíli snorted, and Fíli smirked. “Pretty much. Thorin stayed with him because, well, he’d knocked the guy out, and Dís had thought that he was cute. Then Thorin looks at me and goes, as serious as can be, ‘And you know what your mother told me? She said she was going to marry him. I mean, really. This drunken dancing, singing bloke. I never got over it.’”

Fíli began to chuckle quietly, and Kíli joined him. “And that was the story of how mother met father.”

For a moment, the brothers contemplated the story, laughing into the darkness. There came a creak from the end of the hallway, as a door opened. “Shut up!” a sharp voice shouted, and Fíli’s eyes snapped open. He squinted into the darkness, hoping to see a body, a face, anything, but it was too bright, and his eyes closed almost of their own accord. He sinks his face into his knees, hiding from the light, ashamed of himself. Locked up here, he thought, and it was my fault. I got Kíli into this- now how to get him out? Fíli berated himself in silence, hoping that Kíli wasn’t feeling as desperate as he was.

The door slammed shut and Fíli exhaled, relaxing in their aloneness. “Kíli?” he whispered, and Kíli’s rumble, low for one so young, answered him with a request. “Another story?”

Fíli relaxed a little. “Sure, have you ever heard of when mother told Uncle Thorin she was pregnant?”

“No…but I have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Heh,” Fíli chuckled. “You should. Uncle Thorin still doesn’t really like Father, yet, despite a smashingly lovely wedding with lots of gold and some serious ass-kissing.”

“I’m assuming Pap kissed Thorin’s ass.” Kíli said, and Fíli could hear his smile.

“That would be right. Apparently Thorin has a very hairy one.”

The brothers chuckled together again, and Fíli continued. “So Thorin hears that Dís is pregnant, and, after telling her that it’s lovely, flips out. Apparently he blacked Father’s eye.”

Kíli snorted derisively. “Great family relationships, those.”

“Exactly. There wasn’t a whole lot of reasoning behind it, I think. Thorin was just upset that the man that he thought was an ass was the father of the heirs to the throne of Durin. I think he might have been hoping to send him off on a hopeless and never-ending quest before that happened.”

Fíli mocked a deeper voice, “Oh, Dís, sister, I’m so sorry he never came back. I guess you’ll just have to remarry. What a shame.”

The brothers chuckle together again, this time quietly. “Kíli?” comes a whisper in the darkness, closing in as a cloud covers the moon.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for getting us into this.” Fíli felt like his voice was heading out into the unknown. Dwarves may be comfortable underground and in the dark, but not behind bars.

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll get out of here.” Kíli’s voice echoed across the gap and Fíli reached for its sound like a lifeline.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who keeps a blade in a necklace of their creator? I mean, really. Isn't that some kind of blasphemy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For general reference:  
> Mahal is the dwarven name for Aulë, who created them. (Mahal translates Maker.) Interestingly, he did it without permission, but Eru Ilúvatar granted them life and they became some of the first peoples of Arda.  
> Mandos is the common name for Námo, the Judge of the Dead.  
> (They're both Vala, whom Eru Ilúvatar created.)

Fíli realised that if they were going to get out of this hellhole, he’d better start working on a plan. Now that he knew Kíli was more comfortable, and the moon was brighter, he could start thinking. He reached down to his boots and smiled internally- actually smiling made blood run down his cheek, though he wasn’t sure where from- to find his knives still hidden there. And his lower back blade was there, as was his tiny necklace blade that looked like a small statue of Mahal. This was good news, very good.

Fíli thought back to the moment that they’d come into the room. He’d been moaning and thrusting into Kíli, and Kíli had been close, so close, that it was driving Fíli mad. Suddenly, the door had opened, and Fíli had fallen off the bed in surprise. And they always missed the Mahal blade, even if they were good enough to catch the others. Who carries a knife in a pendant of their creator, after all?

“Kíli, do you still have any of your blades?” he called, his voice slightly more confident.

Before Kíli could answer, the door clanged again and the boots thudded into the walkway. Fíli narrowed his eyes up at the Man striding between their cells, and in the light he recognized him and his hands, hands that had been covered in Kíli’s blood, hands that Fíli was going to break every bone of.

“So. Little dwarven brothers fucking each other.” The man’s voice was deeper and harder than the sharp voiced one from before. “Do you know what we do with brothers that like to fuck in my town?”

Fíli’s mouth hardened into a line. I will break every bone in his hands, he told himself. Then I will smash his face in. Then, and only then, will I tell him what I think about dwarven brothers fucking.

The man’s breathing was heavy and loud, and Fíli despised it. The man sighed perfunctorily. “Well, since you’ve decided you don’t want to know what we’re going to do to you, I’ll give you until it’s light to contemplate just what Aulë thinks of you. You can guess what I think of you right now, I imagine.”

Fíli scowled, and heard Kíli burst out, “Mahal loves us. We are his people, and let Mandos tell you what he thinks of you!”

The man laughed, a harsh sound that made Fíli's ears ache. “Well then,” he added condescendingly, “If you’re Aulë’s precious little people, just wait to see what he thinks of you after we’re through.”

The door clanged shut and Fíli breathed a sigh of relief. “Kíli, they missed my Mahal blade.”

Kíli chuckled. “How did you not notice that before?”

“I was worrying about you. That’s the one that fits locks, though.”

“Oh good.” Kíli’s voice was sarcastic in the darkness. “Lucky that they always just happen to miss the one blade of yours that can get you out of everything-“ Kíli stopped short, as Fíli’s face appeared next to his, and he sighed with relief.

“Ready to get out of here?” Fíli’s voice was terse, holding in his excitement, eyes lighting up with the thought of the fight ahead of them. “Or do you want to stay locked up, since they obviously should have searched a religious pendant for a blade and we should still be stuck?”

Kíli grinned, wincing, but still grinning. “I’ll take the unlocking, now that you mention it. Did they leave you any others? I was a little too distracted to pick anything up.”

Fíli reached in to his back as he stood up, handing Kíli his back-knife, the flattest blade he owned, nearly undetectable when in place. Kíli grinned again. “Sounds good to me, brother.” He leaned over and kissed Fíli lightly. “Just because we’re in here.”

Fíli smiled, truly, for the first time in what felt like days.

The two brothers stood, weapons waiting, on either side of the doorframe. On Fíli’s signal, Kíli gave a shout and the door swung open, with the warden within the frame. “Didn’t I tell you two fucks to quiet dow-” Fíli darted out of the shadows, joints creaking unpleasantly, and smashed his head into the door, and the man crashed to the floor.

The other warden in the guardroom looked up at the noise and opened his mouth to sound an alarm, and Fíli’s heart stopped. Their escape could be over already, and for what? Now they’d take all his blades, and he’d be helpless.

Fíli’s worries were stopped short by a knife thrown into the warden’s temple, as Kíli used the distance skills that came with archery. The brothers grinned at each other, and Fíli peeked around the corner, to check if anyone was coming as Kíli retrieved the thrown knife.

“Let’s go!” Kíli whispered, his voice loud in Fíli’s ear and his breath hot on his cheek, and Fíli turned around and kissed Kíli suddenly, pulling their bodies together before turning around and dashing down the corridor with the lightest footfalls he could.

They only had to smash two more heads in before making it back to the inn, racing down the hallway, past the deserted common room and its fiery embers, to their still unlocked and unemptied room, where the innkeeper had had no idea what to do with their belongings and decided to leave them until the morning.

The brothers packed hastily. “What I would have done for a fire in that freezing hole,” muttered Kíli.

Fíli turned around and grinned, though it hurt. “Meh, don’t worry about it,” he said. “They may have briefly reduced us to embers, but the flame of Durin’s line never goes out.”

Kíli smiled at Fíli through his one open eye. “That damn Mahal blade,” he growled, pulling Fíli in for a long kiss, hands caressing Fíli’s shoulders and down to where the pendant lay on his chest.  
“Mmhmm.” Fíli smirked at Kíli, whose eyes turned cold and narrowed. “Kíli?” Fíli asked, before he looked back over his shoulder and his heart sank.

Their door stood open, and the Man stood there, hands and all, and it was Fíli’s turn to hiss and glare. He launched himself at the Man, kicking his blade out of his hand and punching him in the face over and over as the man toppled backwards, hitting his head on the wall of the hallway and blacking out.

Kíli looked on in surprise at Fíli’s ferocity, as Fíli knelt over the head warden of the prison and systematically, slowly, snapped every one of his fingers. “For Kíli,” Fíli muttered. “May the flames of Durin ever lick you hotter, and let Mandos do as he likes with your soul.”


End file.
